


The Fall

by Ros192



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6381949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ros192/pseuds/Ros192
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Barnes is dead. He has choices to make and advises to ignore. You sigh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fall

James Barnes is falling falling and falling. Then he wasn’t. He doesn’t feel the surge of falling in the pit of his stomach anymore. Or the harsh wind at the back of his head. He’s not screaming anymore. He’s not reaching out anymore.

 James Barnes looks on confused. He has no idea where he is, but to him it looks like a sunny meadow, or maybe a empty bedroom, something that has the gentle touch of happy memories.  

And then he met you. 

“What happened?” He asks quietly.  

“You died.” You say, finding no reason as to sugar coating it. James Barnes’ eyes grows bigger and he’s shaking his he'd in disbelief.

“I fell… I was with Ste- and I fell, I was pushed…?” He looks at you like you have the answers, in an almost accusing fashion. 

“Yes you fell. I have to ask; do you want to die?” James Barnes starts to shake his head profusely and starts to speak.

“No! Of course not, I let behind my men, my sister, my family…. And Steve oh God Steve… He’s all alone now… I left him.” You look at the desperate man and realise that maybe his time is not yet done. 

“You’re God right? This is after life?” James Barnes starts. You nod slowly.

 “Yes, I am God.” You reply. James Barnes starts to nods, thinking hard. 

“Then you can fix this.” You raise an eyebrow.

“You can bring me back to life, and I can go back, win the war… Find Steve a gal…” He trails off, and you are looking at a man so in love that he will give it up. You don’t find this to be brave or kind. It’s cruel and the action of a coward. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” You say. James Barnes whips his head up from the green grass or the dirty bedroom floor. Whatever that make him feel safer. 

“Why not!? You’re God, you can do anything!”

“That is not true.” You say. James Barnes wants you to elaborate. You think it over. He won’t remember this in the end after all.

“I am God. But I don’t create life, or create death. I’m just an advisor.” James Barnes look at you.

“You’re responsible for the war then, you let it happened.” He accused.

“Yes.” You don’t find the need to deny it.

“Millions have died! My brother and-“

“I did not create the great war. I merely watched it happened.”

“Why!”

 “Because humans are deeply flawed. You make mistakes and you learn from them. I advise you to take the right path and then you chose if you want to follow through with my advise or not.”

“I’m dead, you said it yourself. I can’t take the right path if I’m dead.” You nod. 

 “Very true. But you have died before. Or rather nearly died. Right now you’re falling, if I do not slow down the fall you will die. If you chose to live on, I will slow down the fall.”

 “You have no right to chose who live and who dies!”

“I don’t chose, you do. I ask if you want to live and usually people say yes, but sometimes they say no. If you think that your path and your life is profound enough, important enough, you will live.”

“You could have killed Hitler.” 

“No, I couldn’t have. I can’t do anything without the permission of the subject. Adolf didn’t want to die, so I sent him back. You see, people die all the time. In their sleep for a few seconds, people could die for just a moment, and then they come to me. They chose if they want to live or die. Simple.”

“But why?” You sigh. You know that you don’t look like what the Bible, Koran or any other script tells people that you look like. You look like James Barnes’ elementary teacher, or maybe a fellow solider. A vague authority figure. Not so all mighty. 

“Because humans have to chose between life and death in order to mature, to become better. To become passionate and loving creatures. This war will create a lot of conflict, but also a lot of sympathy and humanitarian actions.” 

“So you know what will happened? You know who will win?”

“Depends on which side you’re on, but yes I know.”

“Then tell me how defeat him.”

“Can’t, it’s not your path.”

“How can you do this? How can you just watch on while millions die?”

“James we have had this conversion before, it’s not my choice.” James looks appalled.

“It’s not my choice who lives and who dies. It’s yours.” You repeated.

“Then what you’ll do with your life when you are brought back is your choice. Your actions and decision have nothing to do with me. That’s the whole point of this. You chose what will happen with your life, your consequence of action is your choice. You may have a hand in Hitler’s demise, you may not. Where your decisions lead you it’s your choice. You may not be aware of them now, but you will remember all of it. All the times you met me, all the times you had the choice of life or death.”

“When?”

“When you chose to die.”

“You said you were an advisor. What’s your advise?” You thought over the fate of James Barnes, aware of all the years of suffering that lied ahead. You were not cruel and certainly not a coward.

“Be brave, take what you can when you have the chance. You have passed it won too many times.” You say finally.

“But I won’t remember this, will I?”

“No, but if you chose to follow my advise, you may have an inking, a fleeting through to guide you.”

“You’re talking about him, aren’t you?” He whispers.

 “You asked me this the last time we met… And my advise and answer stays the same, yes. By letting yourself suffer through watching him give up, doesn’t make you better person. I think you know that.”

 “You cannot let one suffer the pain of loneliness and call it love.”

 “That’s not what it is.” He protest. You almost sigh, because you had some version of this conversation since James Barnes was 13 years of age.

 “That’s what Steven feels.”

 “Don’t say his name.” He whispers. He looks down and mumbles:

 “I can’t, we can’t. It’s illegal.”

 “Excuses Sergeant, you’re excellent on making them.” James Barnes was deep in thought, and it really doesn’t matter, you already know what will become of James Barnes.

 “So what is your choice? To live of to die?” He looks up at you, determined eyes and lips in a flat line. You know that he won’t follow your advise or have any idea how many years it will take him to make it up to Steve. 

 “I want to live.”

 And then James Barnes was falling again. Reaching out for something that he wouldn’t get to touch for another 70 years.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the short story The Egg written by Andy Weir.


End file.
